


Remember

by Delancey_Delacroix



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 15:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delancey_Delacroix/pseuds/Delancey_Delacroix
Summary: It's been a year since Clary Fray's memories of the Shadow World were taken from her. It's about time they came back.





	Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Since the series finale decided to gut me and shittily put the pieces back together, I have taken it upon myself to give a more accurate—or satisfying—ending to the Shadowhunters series. I am open to constructive criticism. Enjoy y'all!

There was one thing Clarissa Fairchild loved most about the Brooklyn Academy of Art: they knew how to throw a party. She’d been entertaining guests asking for explanations on her paintings for an hour now and the crowd was finally dwindling down. She slowly approached an art connoisseur observing her most recent paintings, thankful that the noise in her head had lessened significantly. 

“I love this. Are all your works abstract?”

Clary beamed with pride. “Most of ‘em. It’s like I have these feelings and stories inside that are trying to surface but I can’t quite make ‘em out.” She paused, recalling last night’s dream that involved two angels—one with wings black as night, and the other with wings glowing with heavenly radiance—locked in a battle high in the sky. Those dreams were coming more and more often lately and they confused her to no end. It felt like a memory? But that was impossible, since those things didn’t exist. 

_Remember._ The word rang clear in her mind. And had been so for the past week. Clary ignored it and took a deep breath. “So the closest I can do is paint the feelings.” 

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“Thank you for coming.” She shook her hand. Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. It was a guy about her age leaning against a pillar. Had he been there before? It was like he’d just materialized into thin air. That word appeared in her mind again, whispering urgently: _Remember._

He had blonde hair and the most beautiful eyes: one blue, the other brown. She saw the painting in her mind: the body of a young man draped over a coffin, pining for some unknown lover; his white, angelic wings wrapping itself around the coffin; his beautifully colored eyes staring at the viewer as if he knew true pain. Clary’s hands itched to paint him. 

_Remember._

He noticed her staring and looked behind him as if he couldn’t believe she’d seen him. Something tugged at her to go and talk to him. As she got closer, Clary noticed that he was wearing a leather jacket. Not that odd considering he was in Brooklyn Academy of Art. Everyone had their own take on fashion. But what was odd was the tug of longing as she took in his jacket. Didn’t she have one of those? He backed a step when he turned back to see her walking towards him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you.” 

“You can see me?” He was looking at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. 

She almost rolled her eyes at the stupid question. “Yeah, of course I can see you.”

The mystery man just took one last look at her and left. Normally, she would just shrug it off and continue with her night but the voice in her mind was shouting, pounding against her head screaming: _Remember!_

She listened to that tugging in her gut and followed him to the alley outside BAA. Clary caught him just as he rounded the corner.

“Hey!” she called out. He continued walking.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her but didn’t say anything. Clary felt sense of familiarity as she drank in the sight of him. 

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Maybe they’d seen each other in an art show? No, he didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d appreciate art. And she didn’t think she’d forget someone like him so easily. Only divine intervention could make her forget that face. 

_Remember._

“No, I don’t think so—“

“No, I do,” she interrupted. The image of a bird—a heron—appeared in her mind. That seemed important. “I definitely do. I…” Her mouth moved of its own accord, forming the sound of a name her mind could not conjure. “You’re _Jace_ , right?” The moment she spoke the name, all doubts vanished. It just seemed.. right. 

He smiled in disbelief, tears pooling in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m Jace.”

_Remember._

“Yeah? I’m Clary. Um… “

They both laughed, like they were sharing some inside joke. Clary noticed the outline of a few tattoos peeking from underneath his shirt. 

“What are those tattoos on your neck?

_Remember._

He turned away, as if he could try to hide them, but her hand was already reaching out to touch the one by his neck. 

_Remember._

Clary’s finger brushed the curve of the tattoo. Her blood sang.

_Remember._

She gasped softly at the power that thrummed through her. Jace’s eyes met her own.

_Remember._

And so she did. 

She remembered meeting a sarcastic, blonde-haired teen outside a club called Pandemonium; combat training at the Institute, their angelic runes glowing gold; a forbidden kiss in the Seelie realm; a plea to Raziel to bring him back to life… all her memories of him came back to her all at once. And beyond those, more surfaced: Magnus, blue tendrils of magic sweeping across a room; Alec, bossing her around the Institute and saving her life; Isabelle, all high heels and a no-nonsense attitude—her would-be parabatai; Simon, daylighter, vampire, best friend. 

All the pain, the heartbreak, the victories, the losses, the guilt. Emotions crashed into her in one fell swoop but she didn’t let them overcome her. She gave Jace a knowing smile. He continued staring at her like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“This past year, it’s like there’s always been a piece of my soul missing, and it’s inside you, Jace.”

He laughed. He’d said something similar to her a long time ago. “But that’s impossible.” No will could defeat that of the Angels’. Unless…

“Impossible just means ‘try again,’” Clary grinned. “I love you, and I will love you until I die and if there is life after that…”

“I’ll love you then,” Jace finished.

“My love for you will never die, Jonathan Christopher Herondale.” Clary stepped closer. “Even the will of the Angels can’t compete with my love for you… and the Shadow world.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” he warned as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She seemed to recall another time, another alley, with them in the same position. Based on the smirk on his face, he remembered it too. 

“Silence me then,” she teased. Jace didn’t hesitate as he brought his lips down on hers and finally kissed her. Her eyes slid shut and her hands clasped the back of his neck to bring him closer to her. After a year of feeling incomplete, she couldn’t help but sigh as all the puzzle pieces in her aligned and the world became right once more. 

Neither noticed as their angelic glow pierced through the night’s gloom.


End file.
